


Gods And Monsters

by ravenditefairylights



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, I don't know why I wrote this, M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, this is still sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:25:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenditefairylights/pseuds/ravenditefairylights
Summary: "You have been brought in front of the council of the Valar to be judged and punished for your wrongful deeds." Manwë's voice boomed at the still hall."O joy." Mairon mumbled, almost too quietly to be heard, but the silence in the hall was absolute and Mairon's words cut through it as if they were a knife.Oops? What is this? Mairon surviving the FoN? Hmmmm





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU that Mairon survives the Fall of Numenor. I'm sorry  
> The song vaguely reminded me of Mairon so there it goes

_"In the land of Gods and Monsters_

_I was an Angel_

_Living in the garden of evil_

_Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed_

_Shining like a fiery beacon..."_

_-Gods and Monsters, Lana Del Rey_

* * *

The white room was in such a chilling silence that only the breaths of Ainur sounded loud. Mairon was kneeling in front of Manwë's throne, with his hands tied behind his back and Eönwë a few feet away from him to keep him in place should the Maia try something. Mairon found the entire precaution somewhat unnecessary, it wasn't liked he was stupid enough to try and escape from a room with all the Valar present. Desperate enough maybe, but not stupid enough.

Manwë rose from his throne, and Eönwë stood straighter in attention. Mairon refrained from rolling his eyes at the pathetic movement.

"You have been brought in front of the council of the Valar to be judged and punished for your wrongful deeds." Manwë's voice boomed at the still hall.

"O joy." Mairon mumbled, almost too quietly to be heard, but the silence in the hall was absolute and Mairon's words cut through it as if they were a knife. Manwë went on as if the Maia hadn't spoken.

"You are standing here today, facing our judgement for your horrible deeds while under the service of Morgoth-"

"Melkor." Mairon snapped, cutting off the king of the Valar a second time. Manwë ignored him.

"-As well as the responsibility for the fall of Númenor. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The look in his eyes said clearly that whatever Mairon said in his defence would not be taken into consideration. It was all so stupid, really. Why bother holding a council when the decision was already made? Only to look like they had given him a fair trial? It was a clever tactic, one Mairon had himself used many times during his time as Ar-Pharazôn's royal advisor, but he did not have the Valar capable of it.

"The fall of Númenor was hardly my doing." Mairon answered, calculating his words. "I take only a small amount of responsibility. I merely gave suggestions and counsel and their King followed my advice. They lead themselves to their own doom, I only gave them a push, a way to achieve what they sought for."

"They did not seek for destruction." Nessa pointed out with a glare.

"They sought for immortality." Mairon argued. "They sought to be kings in the place of gods, rulers of a world that was not theirs to rule. They are merely a passing thing that will fade with time."

"And Melkor had a right to pronounce himself the Lord of Arda?" Oromë asked rather mockingly.

"Yes." Mairon snapped, his yellow eyes lighting up with flames. "Melkor was a Vala, no less than any of you are. Ar-Pharazôn was a Man that would age and die with the passing of time while my master would remain proud and undestructable."

"Yet not so undestructable it seems." Tulkas made a snide comment, and Mairon settled for glaring at him since there was nothing he could do in those chains.

"Do you deny bringing the Númenorians to their doom?" Manwë asked. Mairon tipped his head to the side, pretending to think about it.

"Well, yes." Mairon finally answered with a shrug. "Was it not Eru that sunk the entire island after all? And where you not the ones who imprisoned the Men under your land because they dared to seek more than you were willing to give them? But I guess it depends on your view of things." The fallen Maia continued thoughtfully. "One could argue that it was all my fault, throwing all the blame at the poor Maia is easier than admitting that Men are so easily corrupted. It was not all my fault. King Ar-Pharazôn took me as a prisoner and then by his own counsel did he decide to make me his advisor, listen to my words and take them by heart."

"Foul words, twisted and empty promises." Mandos said.

"Yet he listened to them." Mairon smiled smugly. "The Queen he had wrongfully wed was smarter than him; she did not trust me. She saw me for who I was and what I intended but none listened to her." The corners of his mouth stretched into an arrogant and wicked smile. "Ar-Pharazôn was just a toy. Not even he could have been foolish enough to believe I cared about him and his people. He was someone I needed to use to achieve my goals and he played that part perfectly. He was a convenience."

"And your goal was to bring your former master back?" Ulmo asked.

Mairon rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

"Why?" Ulmo questioned. "Most lieutenants would take his place, why did you seek him back?"

Suddenly the smile faltered from Mairon's face, and he cast his eyes downwards. "You do not understand."

"Then explain it to us." Aulë said, and there was an undetectable softness in his tone. Mairon stared at his former teacher for a moment before sighting. Aulë pitied him. The Vala still though fondly of Mairon as he used to when he had been his student, the Maia realized. Finally he gave a shrug and met his eyes.

"I might as well." He said. "It will not make a difference. Imagine for a moment yourself in my place at the War of Wrath. And if it had been Yavanna at Melkor's place, what would it have felt like for you?"

A stunned silence followed his confession, as the meaning of his words sunk into the Valar's heads.

"Mairon..." Aulë whispered, his eyes wide with a sort of shock at the revelation. "We are sorry. We did not know."

Mairon snorted. "You are not sorry." He said. "What is the misery of one unimportant Maia in front of the chance to rid the world of evil?" He laughed bitterly, the uneven, broken sound echoing in the silent hall.

Suddenly Estë's eyes widened at a sudden realization. "That scream at the battlefield, that-"

"Of course it was me!" Mairon exclaimed. "It felt as though my very soul was being torn apart. _It hurt_. If you are truly sorry then you would not give me a chance to redeem myself. You would not try to make me regret what I did, I don't. If you are truly sorry then you will kill me. You will cast me into the Void, you will let me see him again! He will welcome me back! He will forgive me!" Mairon's eyes were wide as he leaned forward, unable to get very far because of the chains. There was a slightly crazed look in his eyes, and Eönwë took half a step forward. It was not necessary, because the fiery Maia slumbed back just as suddenly, all life seemingly drained from him.

"Forgive you?" Lorien asked, puzzled. "He would forgive you for what, Mairon?"

Mairon shook his head wordlessly, fighting against the tears that threatened to fall. Forcefully, he pushed them back, and forced his voice to remain even when he spoke next. "I failed him." The words were whispered, but still they carried loudly around the room.

"Failed him how Mairon?" Aulë asked, not without a hint of kindness, but Mairon just shook his head again and spoke no more. It was shocking, how quickly and wholly the facade of arrogance had fallen. And what was left of the proud Maia was a broken shell, a faint echo of the leader he used to be. Manwë's heart was moved to pity, and although Mairon had asked for death, the King of the Valar found it wrong to grant him such a harsh punishment.

"The council has come to a decision." He announced, and Mairon didn't even bother to lift his head from his chest. "Your life is to be spared, in light of the new revelations and the pain we have apparently caused you."

"No!" Mairon's head shot up, tears barely contained and his face striken with horror. "No, you can't do that!"

"We can." Mandos said. "You have been seduced and placed your loyalties with the wrong person. You have been misguided, and that might have been partly our fault for letting it happen. Therefore you will be granted a chance at life, and if you repent during your sentence you will be released and given a second chance."

"NO!" Mairon screamed again, but Tulkas pronounced his punishement set, and two Maiar came to take him. "No, please, kill me! Just kill me! Please!" He struggled against the soldiers, who dragged him out of the room kicking and screaming as the Valar watched with sorrow etched upon his features.

"My Lord, if I may..." Eönwë started hesitantly once the door behind Mairon had been shut. Manwë motioned for him to continue and Varda smiled reassuringly. "Perhaps... perhaps we should have granted his wish." He said finally. "Mairon does not wish for our forgiveness and this seems too cruel a punishment."

Vairë made a noise of disagreement. "First the Elves and now this!" She cried. "It is not natural for an immortal to seek death, to wish it."

"Yes, my Lady, but Elves do fade from sorrow. Perhaps-"

"Nonsense!" Tulkas' voice boomed over Eönwë's. "Elves fade out of sorrow, but they heal in Mandos' Halls and return. Míriel Therindë and Maedhros Fëanorion were the only exceptions, willingly choosing death over life out of so-called weariness. I am older than them and yet I have not experienced such a feeling. The immortal life is Eru's gift to us, and we have no right to wish it away. Mairon grieves, but soon he will realize how pointless his devotion to Melkor is."

"A gift immortality may be, but the struggles one faces in his life are his and his alone, and we cannot decide how he has to feel and what he should and should not wish for." Varda interjected. "You cannot invalidate Mairon's feelings because you do not feel the same hopelessness yourself."

"After all, you have not found yourself in his position." Aulë piped in. "I do not believe he is lying to us."

"I do not believe he is lying either." Manwë said before an argument could break out between the two. "But I feel it wrong to kill him."

"It is what he wishes for." Estë pointed out. "Perhaps showing mercy would be to grant his wish."

"But what if he can be saved?" Yavanna asked. "If there is a chance that he can repent his deeds and be set at the right path again?"

"He did say that he does not regret his actions." Vána reminded her sister.

"Perhaps now he feels this." Yavanna said. "But if he changes his mind..."

"He will not!" Tulkas said. "He is just like his twisted master, far too gone to receive any help."

"I would not cast him hopeless to see the Light yet." Nessa disagreed with her husband. "He has lived in the shadows for so long, it is hard for him to see the Light again so quickly."

"That is precisely why he will not change." Tulkas continued. "For centuries he lived in the Shadow, and now the Shadow has become him. We should kill him and get over with it, only that killing him now will be mercy."

"Do not be so cruel Tulkas." Vairë adviced.

Tulkas' eyes darkened. "Which side are you on? First you support me and now-"

"Leave her alone." Mandos snapped. "She has the right to change her mind as all of us do."

"Please." Ulmo spoke for the first time. "Let us not fight over this."

"Who votes to grant Mairon mercy and let him live?" Manwë asked.

"I am not sure it would be mercy-" Nienna interjected, but Oromë hushed her. Manwë nodded and repeated his question.

Yavanna and Aulë raised their hands, still holding hope that Mairon might be persuaded towards the Light. Manwë raised his hand as well, despite the pointed look Varda gave him. Nessa raised hers, and after a silent conversation with her husband, so did Tulkas. Mandos and Vairë both raised theirs as well. Oromë joined them, but Vána kept hers down. Mandos looked over at his siblings in disapproval, but Nienna raised her chin proudly and pointedly kept her hand down. Lorien followed her example, and so did Estë and Ulmo.

"So it is eight for and six against." Manwë announced. "We have come to a decision. Mairon shall be given a second chance to redeem himself." At his words, the punishment was sealed. The Valar rose from their seats, conflicted over the decision that was taken, but willing to follow through with it. "Eönwë, seeing as the two of you were friends before his seduction, you are to be responsible for him."

Eönwë ducked his head at his Lord's command, but something told him that Mairon would not be happy with either decision.


	2. In which Eönwë tries hard to be nice, but Mairon tries harder to shut people out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mairon has to settle, even if unwillingly, at his new house in Valionr. He has to come to terms with house arrest, and a hovering Eönwë that just won't go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm contuining this, thanks to my friend, GoodGuyMaeglin.  
> This is for you, fam.
> 
> Unopopular opinion (or not, I'm not sure): I don't want Mairon (and Melkor by extention) to be redeemed. I like my villains. The story follows this line of thinking.

Eönwë was informed that Mairon would be living with him from now on, and to be completely honest, he disagreed with the reasoning of this particular desicion.

Sure, he and Mairon used to be friends, but that was a very long time ago. It was before he came to be known as Sauron the Abhorred. Before he sided with Melkor to conquer Middle-earth. And not only is the decision taken so _not_ to his benefit-because let’s be real, he didn't trust Mairon not to steal his belongings even when they were on friendly terms- but it was also some sort of house arrest. Which meant that Mairon was not allowed to leave the house.

He had tried opening Mairon’s bedroom door twice so far, only for each time to be driven back to closing it at Mairon’s yelling in that ugly language that made his skin crawl. However, he was the one who owned the house, and they two of them would be spending much time together. They ought to be able to have a relatively normal conversation. Although, Eönwë was not entirely sure what was considered “normal” under this kind of circumstances.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the handle of Mairon’s bedroom door. It was the same plain, wooden door as the doors at the rest of the house, but somehow this one just had an aura that screamed Mairon. Or maybe it was just Eönwë’s consciousness because he knew he was there.

He pushed the door open. This time, there was fortunately no yelling. Mairon was sitting on the bed with his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“That’s it?” Eönwë asked without thinking.

Mairon barely turned his head to look at him. “What exactly were you expecting?”

“I’m not certain.” Eönwë admitted. “I just… I expected something more than this passive reaction.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Mairon asked. “Scream and kick away all the furniture in rage? That would be very inconvenient for you. Or should I charm the flowers to eat anyone that walks through the door.”

“I’m not sure-”

“I can do it.” Mairon said. “Try me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Eönwë said. “But at the same time, I don’t think Lord Manwë would be very happy about it.”

Mairon rolled his eyes and gave his opinion about Manwë in the Black Speech, he himself had created. Eönwë shivered.

“Can you please, _not_ use that language?” Eönwë asked.

“Is this another thing _Lord Manwë_ disapproves of?” Mairon sneered, putting emphasis on the name.

“No. It hurts.” Eönwë said. Mairon looked taken aback, more from his honesty than the statement itself, the herald of Manwë suspected. Mairon was the one who created the language, he knew what it could do. What he had designed it to do.

“So, are you here to gloat?” Mairon asked. The chance of subject was not missed, but Eönwë let it pass.

“I’m here to talk.” He replied. “You’re going to live in my house for the next couple of millennia, we might as well be on speaking terms with each other.”

“You hate me.” Mairon pointed out.

“I used to.” Eönwë said, and he meant it. He had forgiven Mairon long ago. There was no point in holding grudges. Mairon had made his choice, and so had Eönwë.

“Yeah, well, I still hate you.” Even as he said it, they both knew it wasn’t true. Maybe it had been a very long time, but the depth of their friendship could not be easily forgotten. Eönwë could tell when Mairon didn’t mean something. Circumstances had proved that Mairon wasn’t an exceptional liar, though.

Eönwë unconsciously doubted everything that came out of Mairon’s mouth. He hated it. He hated not being able to trust the people around him. That was probably the wrong rift in their relationship, the unrepairable one. Mairon had lost all of Eönwë’s trust. And that was a very hard thing to achieve.

Could their relationship mend? Could that lost trust be restored?

Questions, millions of questions that Eönwë couldn’t begin to find the answers for. He could still try, though.

“Tell me about Angband.” Eönwë said finally, surprising both of them. Mairon actually sat up on the bed.

“What?” He demanded, shock clear in every inch of his face.

Eönwë shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t know, you find a better topic.”

Mairon stared at him for a long time. Eönwë held his gaze. Mairon’s eyes, once a bright soft brown, were now yellow and cat-like. His iris burned like a creature of their own, an unperishable flame as red as the long hair that framed his face. Finally, the corrupted Maia looked away.

“It was like someone had built the place upon unconnected, destroyed pieces of land that felt as if they would slip and crash down. The darkness that surrounded it during the time after the destruction of the Trees was thick, and then, when the Sun rose, it seemed to slip through your fingers. And it was hot, so hot; mostly due to the fires and the volcano, the lave and lurked deep inside. You, all of you, would have hated it.” Mairon’s lips curved in a smile. “I loved it.”

“I admit it doesn’t sound very appealing.” Eönwë admitted.

“The mountains were like broken razor pieces, and the skyline from the window looked permanently scorched. Fire shining in the darkness, the various Balrogs ordering the orcs around. Roars; Melkor’s dragons liked to make themselves known. And screams, the prisoners always screamed.”

Eönwë shuddered. The mere thought of _torturing_ someone…

“Of course,” Mairon went on, “I’m the monster around. Here, anyway. But the place there was so beautiful. I have my own forge, you know. And freedom to conduct whatever experiment I liked. On the ground, the plants, the air, sometimes the prisoners. It was chaotic, but at the same time so organized. So direct, so easily understood. The freedom of creation… I could create _everything_ , Eönwë.”

The Maia of Manwë could see now, how much Mairon loved the place. How fascinated he looked at the description of the landscape that was no longer there, but Mairon’s eyes could see nonetheless. Vividly and clearly, like it was standing in front of him, the entire marred country. He could see it, in the way Mairon’s eyes light up and burned a little brighter, how much he loved it.

“You’re right.” He said. “I would hate it, I do. But it’s clear that you love it.”

Mairon shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect Manwë’s perfect soldier to understand.”

“It’s really weird if you think about it.” Eönwë said, laying with his back on the bed.

“Which one?” Mairon asked in a bored tone. Eönwë had forgotten how effectively he could convey disinterest with only his voice and eyebrows.

“How we stayed friends for so long when we’re so painfully different.” He said. Mairon almost laughed, but he caught himself. He shrugged again.

The fell into a silence that was surprisingly comfortable, and if Eönwë was being honest, even a little scary. The scary thing, was that ultimately, Eönwë and Mairon were getting along like before. It was a sudden realization (or maybe the reminder of a thought that ad always been in his mind) that they really weren’t terribly different that how they’d originally started.

Sure, the War changed him, and so it did Mairon. They both got hurt, one of them fell in love. Bad sides were revealed. Different motives, different moral codes, different goals.

And now they were. And from here, where do they go?


End file.
